Space
by Dajypop
Summary: Loz recounts his life from as far back as he can remember to the present. Eventual Lozoo, KaLoud, RudeReno. Rating for later chapters.
1. Test Tube

**Title: Space**

**Author: Lacey**

**Rating: M for later chapters**

**Chapter: 1/?**

**Words:**

**Pairing: Eventual Lozoo, KaLoud, hinted RudeReno**

**Summary: Loz recounts his life from as far back as he can remember to the present.**

**Warnings: Flashbacks galore, Loz POV,**

**AN: I randomly got this idea while looking around on Fanfiction. I decided I needed a story that got lots of reviews and was well-loved, and I hope that this idea is something worthwhile to pursue. If you like it, send it to a friend you think might like it, if they like it, have them send it on. I really want to have something good come of this story. Reviews and favorites are always welcome, but both are always the most appreciated. Constructive criticism is good if you don't like something; let me know about it. Also, I will personally thank everyone who reviews in the next chapter's Author's Note and answer any questions you have there. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this. Here we go.**

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**Chapter One: Test Tube**

The very first thing I remember in my life is cracking open my eyes for the first time at the tender age of four. I floated, useless and helpless, in a long vial-like tube, my bulk barely contained in the glass. Maybe that was what had woken me. It was either that or the odd jolts of my glass house, as it swiveled a little on some pivot or another and I began to become parallel to the floor. I panicked, of course, having no idea what was going on, as the pod's latch on top hissed, giving an electronic sound. The more I heard and experienced, the worse I felt about the situation, and began to cry uselessly. Something echoed in my mind, but I couldn't tell what it was. A soft, smooth voice; _Don't cry, Loz._ Little did I know I'd be hearing a lot of that, later in life.

The liquid I had been suspended in, but could somehow still breathe in, had begun to drain and I feared losing oxygen, grasping my throat and** felt **a choking grip; I was only four and yet I was already incredibly strong. As the water poured onto the cold tile floor, I found myself sliding out, as well, and tried hard to stick to the tube. It gave a slow, shallow shaking that dumped me out, sniveling and whining, onto my rear. My hair was still as short as it is, now, but it lacked my gorgeous sideburns. I was naked when I first came out, and in a room by myself, save for a few other tubes. The lights from the outside of the room were blinding and I couldn't see anything outside of it.

A large, uncaring metal claw descended from the ceiling, nudging me and checking over my large but little body. I was already a fairly large child; not fat, just thick. As the cold pads touched me, taking vital signs and everything, I began to cry with more force, my face twisting in a pained way, as it checked out all of my regions, making sure everything was okay. It would pinch and prod, poke and squeeze; it was a monster, the first one I encountered, and my little body already knew what to do.

Quick as a flash, I reached up and grabbed what I would say was something akin to a wrist for the thing, yanking down ferociously until I heard more snapping sounds and it crashed around me, firing electrical surges at the air around it, as if to punish it for not jumping in to help. An excited female voice crackled over a speaker into the room and I could hear the first sound of clapping in my life, as well as my name from a human's lips for the very first time.

"Very good job, Loz!" I glanced around the room but could still see nothing. "You be nice, now, when I come in." And then the lights dimmed enough that they didn't hurt anymore, and a woman came in to see me. She lifted me up against her body and smiled, "Hello, little Loz." She playfully poked my nose and I wrinkled it in response.

"Come, let's take you to the playroom. We also need to get you some clothes." And with that, she took me off to get myself cleaned up and my education started. It was a simple white room with a white chair and short white table, and a white TV set settled into the wall. There was paper on the desk, along with several pencils. The screen flickered on and I was settled into the chair, beginning to learn everything I had yet to know. It didn't like to stick, and I'm sure I made my 'teacher' very upset.

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**AN: There...just a little for you guys, but enough for it to be good, I hope. I'm trying to improve my writing, here, so let's just hope I can do a good job. 333333**


	2. Voices

**Chapter: 2/?**

**Words: 866**

**Warnings: Changed time, age five, now**

**AN: Alright, here's the second chapter. I'm really proud of this story; it seems to be working out well for me, so far. I just hope I can keep it going okay and finish it. Please, as always, reviews are loved and appreciated, but anything I get will be amazing. Thank you!**

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**Chapter Two: Voices**

_Loz...Looz....Looooozzz...?_

I didn't know exactly who always talked to me during lessons, but it certainly wasn't my computerized teacher. The voice was too smooth; too beautiful to be some electronic man's. And it never had anything to do with the lessons. I could be sitting there, just thinking about my class, when I was confronted with a sudden barrage of words about something I didn't really know about.

_Loz...I want you to come see me. I miss feeling close to you._

Sometimes, I try to think back to it, try to respond, but if it gets my messages, it doesn't respond to them like I try to. Just another plea to be closer usually comes back. One day, I asked the woman who was taking such good care of me.

"Nan..." I started, curled in her lap before bed with a story. "Sometimes I hear this voice in my head...It's a very pretty voice...and I think it's a boy." I smiled a little at the thought. "He talks to me sometimes during class...and I get distracted. Is there something wrong with me?" She chuckled and shook her head.

"No, baby, that's a good thing." She pet my head, "It means you two already have a strong bond...if you can talk to each other without being physically together. I can take you to see him, if you like." I nodded quickly; I wanted to know who kept talking to me all the time.

Setting me on the floor and the book on my bed, she got up and took my hand. We walked the white, mechanical halls of the lab, as I was used to doing, by now, and went into a room that was oddly familiar. It was the same room from a year ago; with two tubes lit up against the far wall.

Inside the one closest to the corner of the room sat a hunk of flesh that didn't even look like it could be anything real; it wasn't pretty at all. However, my eyes fell on the second tube and I gasped; while I was told the child inside was only three, he was already the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen.

"He's...so pretty." I smiled, stepping closer and gently touching the glass.

"Loz, you shouldn't play with that...you know how you break things without trying..." Nan told me, but I wasn't able to hear her. When I touched the glass, a flash of that voice returned, over and over, and soon I had an audible connection.

"Loz..." I heard in my brain, and when I closed my eyes, there he sat.

"Y-yes...Yazoo?" I have no idea how I knew his name already. He'd never told me, I'd never heard it spoken...I just _knew_.

"Why are you shaking me? That's uncomfortable." While I couldn't hardly utter anything past a sob when I had come out, Yazoo had yet to be developed enough to leave and he was already using such big words. I had a feeling he would be incredibly sharp and intelligent when he was allowed out of the tube.

Outside of my mind, my hands slid down from the tub and relaxed at my sides.

"Yazoo...why do you never answer my questions?"

"Because I wanted you to come see me, first. I've heard so much about you...but I couldn't _feel_ you." He replies, looking down, "I wanted you to come see me so we could have this bond."

"I can hear you, now, and you can hear me, too?"

"Exactly." He turned beautiful eyes on me and I'm shocked; however, he seems to sense this. "Our eyes are the same, Brother. Have they not shown you yourself?" I shake my head. "Too bad...you're very lovely to look at." However, after he finished this sentence, it seemed I was being torn away from him. He left me with reassuring words as I was carried out and back to my room.

"Loz, why didn't you respond to me?" She questioned once she sat me down on the bed. I looked up.

"He was talking to me...I could see him, up here." I tapped my temple and her angry face turned absolutely delighted.

"Oh, Lozzie, that's so good! You and Yaz have a bond, now!" She cried happily, tugging me close and cutting off my air with her breasts. I didn't care much, except when she held me too long and I tried to gently push her back. I accidently shoved her so hard that she landed against the wall opposite my bed. "Ugh....Alright, Loz...we're gonna work on being /gentle/, okay? If you're touching your brothers, I'd hate for you to hurt them."

"Brother...s?" I questioned, and she nodded. "Yazoo is only the first to be created after you. Kadaj will come soon...he is the final creation."

"You mean the lump?"

"He's only a lump for now." She smiled, "He'll grow, just like you and Yaz are." I nod and she finally tucks me in for bed, reading me my story that I swiftly fall asleep to.

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**AN: Yay, Loz and Yaz have just met for the first time EVER! 8D I hope you guys enjoy this story. It's fun to write. :3**


	3. Death of a Comrade

**Chapter: 3/?**

**Words:**

**Warnings: Implied death, Loz = 6**

**AN: Alright. So, this is the third chapter already. Wow...I can't believe it doesn't have any reviews. /Sarcasm. **

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**Chapter Three: End of a Comrade**

During sparring that day, I got cut on the face. Tears gushed and gushed and I whimpered and bawled like a newborn babe; the man I had been sparring with had a broken neck, and lay beside me, pooling blood. I cried for several hours, but not over the kill. Over the tiny, insignificant pain at my temple that drove me nuts. It hurt like I had been dissected live or something and someone was poking around in my brain. Of course, after a little while, I heard a very anti-sympathetic _Don't cry, Loz_. It didn't help.

Finally, a woman came into the room, but it wasn't my Nan. This was weird; she usually came in as soon as she could when I was hurt, and here it had been at least three hours, and the blood from my temple had dried down the side of my face. This new woman looked nothing like Nan; while Nan was a brunette, this one was a redhead with frizzy curls and a mean expression on her lips, painted red. Her eyes were ice-blue and just as cold, and the way she held her equally chilly hand out for me to take sent shivers down my spine. The second she entered the room, I could almost see my breath.

She took me with her back to my room and tended to my wound with the care of a baboon throwing its own poop. She then told me to lay down and go to bed.

"But...what about my story?"

"Story?" She asked, stony-faced.

"Yeah, story. Nan-Nan always read me a story before bed." I smiled dreamily.

"Well, Nan isn't here anymore. So no more stories, meathead." She spat in return. I later found out that her name was Grudence, going by Rudy. Nobody really liked her, and she was incredibly cold. No wonder why they used her to replace Nan. I also found out much later what happened to Nan, and why she 'abandoned' me. They thought she had babied me too much and caused me to be the crybaby I was. Sadly, it wasn't that at all.

I spent the next few years with this woman, hating every second I was with her and constantly pining for the good 'mommy' to come back and save me from this evil ice witch. Every time my old caregiver would be brought up, though, I would be eternally unhappy and was known to break anything and everything in my path when it came time, in my head, to find her. I did find her, eventually, in cemetery out back behind everything else. I couldn't believe what they did to her, and I held a grudge for a long time. That night, I cried myself to sleep and then some, making sure to wake up to a completely sodden pillow.

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**AN: And now you know why Loz was such a crybaby. At least, my reasoning as to why. But it's okay, Loz, you'll have someone to care properly for you, soon. Well, on to the next chapter, then. :3**


	4. Soul Mate

**Chapter: 4/?**

**Words: 702**

**Warnings: Loz POV, age eight**

**AN: Here's chapter four! So far I have two reviews...yay? Not quite what I had wanted for this story, I was hoping for three, but...this is fine. :3 As long as I have something, I suppose. :3**

**Shiva Rajah – Thank you SO MUCH for your review. I've heard so much about you on dA, and I'm very happy you enjoyed this.**

**Labe – I'm very glad that this story is to your liking. For now, you're the reason I'm writing this chapter and putting it up. :3**

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**Chapter Four: Soul Mate**

I had never thought I would have a more perfect moment in my life than when I had met the little thing in the tube that was Yazoo. He has talked to me ever since I came out of mine, and...I actually never thought he'd get to come out. I waited for so long before he actually was able to come see me. I was shocked beyond all belief that day that that evil thing Grudence took me to the new room. It was padded, white like every other room, and held a much larger bed than the one I had been sleeping in on my own.

There were two doors into this room, while in mine there had only been one. I was left on the bed, staring at the door I hadn't come in from, looking around. I noted there were windows that looked like mirrors way up there that I couldn't see out of, but I was sure they were watching me. Soon, the door behind me, being as the bed was in the middle of the room, opened with a mechanical whooshing noise and I turned my attention to it.

A very small person came into the room, thin as all get out and very different from my own form. His body was tiny, svelte, and looked soft to the touch. While I wore something akin to a black hospital gown, he had on this impossibly complicated outfit that covered him up from his toes to his wrists to his neck. I later discovered they were called 'footie jammies', by the nicer lady that had taken care of this fair creature.

Male. It had to be a male. Despite the alluring features, I remembered them saying 'brother'. Brother meant male. Even with the long hair and the instant attraction I had to him...I knew he was male. He turned to look unaffectedly at the door as it was shut in his face, and he switched his attention on me. Those dull eyes sparked to life and he strode closer, seeming to lose the boredom in his expression.

"Brother..." He breathed softly once he was in my face, looking at me with those eyes that, later in life, would spell catastrophe for me. Now, though, I was too young and innocent to notice these things.

"Bro...brother?" I replied softly, blushing a little from the closeness. I remember Nan had told me you only got this close to someone if you really loved them.

"I have missed you, Loz." He rest our foreheads together and I felt so...elated to be with him. I lifted his tiny form up into my arms, setting him in my much larger lap. Even at the tender age of eight, I was huge for a kid, and he just seemed...so tiny, so breakable. I was worried I would hurt him, that I didn't know how to handle a porcelain doll. He never seemed bothered by it, though. After he was all situated and we were back to focusing on each other, he brought our faces really close together.

"I love you, Loz." He whispered, and kissed my lips, hands cupping my face. I flailed a second, not entirely sure what to do, but soon I moved my hands to his back, caressing him gently as we kissed. It wasn't even an innocent little-kid-kiss; he kissed like he wanted to get into my pants. I didn't understand it at that point, but today I realize that his kisses never changed. They didn't start out as sweet pecks or little, curious brushes. It was always a kiss to entice. I may have been eight, but I was impressive, even then. But...neither of us knew how to do anything about it, at the time. We just kissed for a long time, before we separated.

It seemed like the right thing to do when they shut off all the lights, so we lay down in the bed next to each other, and I spooned him a good portion of the night, holding him tight with his hands laced in mine. We slept like that every night, and from that day on, we did everything together.

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**AN: ****Thank you to all the people who like this story. 3 I'm very happy with it, so far, and I even love this chapter, as strange as it seems. I think it's a good one. :3 I look forward to seeing you in the next chapter!**


	5. Together

**Chapter: 5/?**

**Words: 903**

**Warnings: Loz POV, Age ten**

**AN: Alright, chapter five. :3 This will show more of how in-tune with each other Yazoo and Loz are, that's this chapter's whole purpose. XD And to introduce something else, but only very vaguely. :3 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!**

**Labe – Thank you so much, again, for the lovely review! It's so sweet that you liked it so much. :heart: I'm very proud of how I wrote that chapter, and getting such a kind review definitely helps fuel my want to write this chapter. Yes, I've always seen them both with a strong bond like this, where they just...know they're perfect for one another. :3 I'm glad you see them this way, too, and I'm not the only one. :heart:**

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**Chapter Five: Together**

Yazoo and I were inseparable ever since I met him. He was six when he entered our new room, but now he's eight. We've gotten different outfits, now; a few different things, but all of it leather. Yazoo made our outfits, now, and his favorite medium was leather. He took measurements like he'd done it his entire life, like he was made for this. He specially tailored our outfits to fit us perfectly, to be so tight that we needed spandex shorts on beneath the harsh material to avoid chafing. He made those, too.

His skills in clothes weren't his only ones, though; even at a young age, he could seduce anyone he wanted to. They ended up giving us caretakers and helpers that were older or unable to catch any interest; boring people that made him want to vomit. Most of his attentions and affections were focused on me; and I didn't want it any other way. We'd sleep together, innocently, but he'd wake me up in the middle of the night with these odd noises that made me feel odd in my pants. I was thankful for a bathroom because I always needed a shower at night.

However, that wasn't all there was to Yazoo; he seemed he could be the perfect sexy housewife, but the guy could and still can throw a punch. He has rather strong, defined arms from all the years of holding his gun up; it's actually fairly heavy. While he's streamlined, thin, and doesn't weigh a lot, he's a powerful and agile opponent. Even at age eight, he could seriously put the hurt on the people hired to spar with us.

We were trained to fight together; to be an ultra-deadly tag-team. I was taught to never let Yazoo out of my sight when we battle, to make sure that he's safe at all times, and to aide him wherever I can. We worked up this neat high-flying routine where I throw his little body about like a rag-doll and he uses that long-rang weapon of his to do some real damage to whoever it is opposing us.

Through all of this training, this learning, our relationship and bond only seemed to grow. Yazoo was the only one for me; I could never love and listen to anyone like I did him. I always wanted to be his first everything; we already were firsts on a lot of things. First kiss, first brother, first crush, and first love...all before we hit puberty. He was the first person I shared a bed with, the first person to fight alongside me, the first person to be able to comfort me when I went into a crying fit.

The day that something strange happened in our heads, I started to cry. I had always been a little uncertain of how I would keep Yazoo all to myself when that other lump from the tubes would grow and be able to join us. He'd obviously go to someone better if he could find him, right? I was nothing special.

That very day, I heard a little, demanding voice in the back of my head.

_Dammit, you two are useless._

Kadaj had a mouth on him from the first time we heard him. I hugged close to Yazoo and tears began to fall from my eyes, my face screwed up in pain and I began to yowl. Since then, I've learned to control my noises, at least, when I cry.

The thing I hadn't expected, though, was that Yazoo still held and comforted me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear and telling me to block it out. I found that, while I could never block Yazoo out of my head, Kadaj was much easier to do that with. I couldn't feel our bond with our youngest brother as much as I could with Yazoo. That further underpinned the thought in my head that Yazoo would always be mine, no matter who showed up to try and take him away from me.

I remember, that night he told me a story as we lay in bed. While, usually, I held him and he just lay there, his thin but strong arms wrapped around my hulking form, our foreheads pressed together as he kissed my tears away, as he spoke. The story was beautiful; some poem he had heard during his own brand of education. While I was trained in the core and base things, my younger brother was educated in the finer sides of life; he had extensive knowledge of things I had never known existed, and he was always a good story teller.

That night will forever stick in my mind...I'll never be able to forget how loving and caring he was with me, how he patiently soothed me and kept me from crying anymore. I even managed to let him know of my fears of losing him.

"Loz...I would never leave you for a little brat." He told me seriously, voice soft. "You are my first brother, my elder and bigger brother, and I strive to meet your needs myself. I fear my bond with our newer sibling is not as strong as it is with you, so you have nothing to worry about."

While we lived on each other, breathed each other's air and used each other for survival, having Kadaj in our little family was much different.

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**AN: Oh, wow! This story seems to be getting longer the more I write it! The chapters are slowly approaching 1000 words! Maybe the next chapter will be much longer, and I'm hoping it is. However, I have plenty of ideas for it, so that's good, too. :3 Alright, guys, I will see you in the next chapter!**


	6. I Want It!

**Chapter: 6/?**

**Words: 1004**

**Warnings: Loz POV, Ages 11 (Loz), 9 (Yazoo), 6 (Kadaj)**

**AN: Alright, guys. Chapter six, already. O_O That's kind of weird for me. xD But I can't stop working on this story for some reason. I tried to work a little on Boy Next Door chapter three, got about four more paragraphs down before I had to come back to this story and write some more on it, because I had an idea. Anyway, I think I've figured out why the chapters are so short.**

**Since it's in Loz's POV, and he isn't the best with his words, I assume it's because with him, it's short and sweet and to the point. He gets his point across, though, in such a small amount of words, and I think it works.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I'm expecting it to be a little longer than the others.**

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**Chapter Six: I Want It!**

Life would never be the same again, not after that day. Three days after Yazoo's ninth birthday, we were taken out of our cozy room and put into another, this one with four doors; one was a bathroom, we learned soon, one a closet, and two entry doors. It looked a lot like the other room; a high ceiling, those black windows, the white, padded walls...the only difference was that the bed was larger and pushed against the back wall, between the door nobody had yet to come in and the closet. The room itself was larger, too; big enough to run a good-sized dog in and have plenty of room to keep your game of Solitaire from being hounded.

The pair of us was ordered to sit on the bed, and we did as we were told, our hands slipping into each other, like we fit perfectly. His hands, so thin and always knowing what they want to do, sync perfectly in my much larger hands; I'm always careful not to crush them, ever since I met him face to face. A thumb gently caressed my hand, making the nervous bile forming in the pit of my stomach and the frightened tears in my eyes ebb a little, until the mechanical swoosh of the door sounded.

A rather cute little boy, looking like he had just woken up, shuffled into the room with a teddy in his hand, holding its little paw. His eyes and hair and skin were the same color as ours, but that was where our similarities ended, for the most part. His hair was cut somewhere between Yazoo's and my own; it wasn't near as long or short, but it hit his shoulders and hung in his face. His eyes seemed to glow a moment, mischief suddenly shining in them when he realized he was, for the most part, alone with us.

Yazoo was the first to lightly lift himself from the bed, landing gracefully on the floor and giving my hand a tug. I landed with a thud on my feet and we managed to move over to this new child, and I watched as my pretty brother's eyes washed over that baby face and took in everything about him with some degree of interest that had me jealous, already. However, that hand never stopped touching me, nor did it stop petting mine. However, Kadaj took one look at our clasped hands and suddenly, he was an entirely different person from the cute kid who had just stumbled in.

The third's footie-pajama'd right foot stomped into the cushioned floor beneath it and a loud, demanding, yet childish and semi-frightening voice tore from his throat as he yelled as loud as his lungs would allow him.

"I WANT IT! IWANTIT, IWANTIT, IWANTIT, IWANTIT, IWANTIT!" And it went on like that for a while, until Yazoo got the idea to step forward and, calmly, question what it was he wanted. "I want _you_." The little thing poked at Yazoo's chest with a stubby finger, scowling up at my pretty brother and stepping up to him like he was some kind of big man. Considering I had only just met him, I decided to protect my property from this new little demon.

I slid my thick body between the pair and glared, crossing my arms. He didn't back down, just attempted to push me out of the way. I lifted him by his neck and slammed him against the door he had just come from, growling out a warning.

"Yazoo is mine." I told him, looking as pissed as I could. I didn't realize how angry I had gotten until I felt those delicate hands wrap around my forearm, one on top and one on the bottom, and heard my name from that soft, calm voice.

"Loz...he is our brother." He spoke evenly, as if unperturbed by this. I growled slightly, but let the new nuisance down and stalked off to the bed. I lay down in time to hear a loud thump and I turned my head in a snarl as I noticed that little pest had _my_ Yazoo pinned to the wall and was sneering up into his uncaring face. I did the next best thing to beating his face in.

Standing up and striding to him quickly, I lifted him up by the back of his Koala-themed footie pajamas and threw him across the room, knowing he'd land softly or on his feet, somehow. Then, I stood in front of Yazoo.

"He didn't hurt me. I know you are worried, Loz." Yazoo tells me this as if we were talking about the color of the sky, and having a calm conversation instead of me being on the verge of tears.

"I don't want him to touch you." I replied, turning on the waterworks. I began to sob and cling to him, and he just held me and rubbed my back, soothing me. He pressed one of those kisses to my lips, a leg moving to wrap around my waist, when suddenly there was a leach attached to my back. Yazoo pulled back and blinked in surprise, and I turned to look.

"I want it."

"What is it you want, now?"

"You~."

"...me?"

"Yes, you." A short pause, and then, "Who are you?"

"I'm Loz, and that's Yazoo. We're your brothers."

"I want my brothers!" He slid around between us and hugged the two of us close, placing hard, painful and sloppy kisses against both of our lips before grinning like a madman. This started a love-hate relationship with the three of us. Yazoo and I both had the same personality trait that made Kadaj essential; neither of us were a leader. While he was a pest, this little brother was born to lead us somewhere, to do something great. To find Mother. And it was this little brother of ours who told of us of our new mission.

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**AN: ****Okay, that's so weird. XD The last three chapters have gone almost in order with number of words. 702, 903, 1004...it's so weird. XD But that's okay. :3 I'm very happy with this chapter, again, I think it came out well. I was actually unsure how to end it for a bit, but then this came and I thought this was a decent way to do it.**


	7. Kiss

**Chapter: 7/?**

**Words:**

**Warnings: Loz POV, Ages undefined**

**AN: Alright, guys, I've decided to try to keep this story alive a little longer than ten chapters. :3 There will definitely be some fun soon, I promise. I'm having a lot of fun with this story, and I'm very happy with it. I think it's fulfilling what it was meant to; funny, cute, and explaining my views on things. :3 So, I hope you guys enjoy another chapter.**

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**Chapter Seven: Kiss**

The more time I spent with my brothers, the more I became used to the things Kadaj did. He was a child tyrant, constantly ordering us around and on the prowl for the next thing he wanted from us or anyone else. He was always so demanding, and the more I was around him; the more I realized how different he is from Yazoo, and even myself.

Between the three of us, I'm fairly prone to fits of rage. Kadaj, however, is far more prone for power-trips and demanding screaming. He will sometimes scream and yell at us until we jump to action and appease him; granted, sometimes it's pretty funny. He also always finds a way to try and get in between Yazoo and I, but it never works well for him.

My Yazoo had already told him that he was mine and that they could hug and kiss like a normal family, but that I was the one he was here for. Kadaj, of course, always tried to keep kissing my calmer brother as long as he could, keeping it until Yazoo pulled back with bruised lips. I had decided at the younger age of eleven, the first time he kissed me, I knew his were very different from Yaz's.

Kadaj's kisses burned and tingled and bruised, left your lips red and swollen, and often-times had both me an' Yazoo turning away in disgust. He wanted someone to control with those lips, not someone to love.

Yazoo's kisses were always sensual, from the time we were introduced, they left you tingling in every area, lips left soft and wet and wanting more. His kisses always made my heart flutter, but little Dajy never has and probably never will appreciate them. He aims his love at me in those kisses, though, Yaz does, and I know that he's feeling the same way I do.

Kadaj seeks power, Yazoo seeks company. My kisses...I know they're sloppy, childish and passive when it comes to Kadaj. I don't want to give him the impression that I'm good at this, in order to keep myself with Yazoo. I've always been that way. For my middle brother, though, my kisses are a bit more practiced, controlled and they feel perfect with those soft lips pressed to mine.

I know that if he wanted to, Kadaj could be nice about...well, everything. He doesn't need to want everything, and he doesn't always act that way. When he sleeps, he can be so cute and cuddly. I only know this from years of sleeping in the middle to protect my precious Yazoo from the crazy rapist we've shared a bed with since he was six.

He isn't all bad, but he doesn't let that part of himself show, not even to us.

* * *

**AN: Alright, so, this chapter was more or less some musing, but it was meant to be a good in-between chapter. :3 I just wanted to write this as one of them, and it seemed to fit here. So...anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this. I loved writing it. This is starting to turn into partial fanservice for my Kadaj, I think. XD Hope you enjoy it, Dajy.**


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